


It's All Just a Cover - Part 6 - Distracted Diva

by Winchester_with_Wings



Series: It's All Just a Cover - Rockstar AU [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, DO NOT COPY, DO NOT REPLICATE, Do Not Translate, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Groupie!Dean, Groupie!Sam, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Music, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Rockstar AU, Rockstar!Gabriel, Rockstar!Reader, Sex Drugs and Rock and Roll, Song fic, possible implied f/f
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 11:53:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5784382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winchester_with_Wings/pseuds/Winchester_with_Wings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SERIES SUMMARY:<br/>The Reader is the lead singer in an cover band. Her brother Gabriel is the drummer with candy cane drumsticks. The Reader is content living the facade of a rockstar lifestyle until her brother Gabe invites Sam backstage and his brother Dean comes with and ultimately makes her reconsider who she is and what she wants. </p><p>SUMMARY:<br/>You can’t avoid Dean anymore. Especially once your bandmates make it clear that it’s affecting the band.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's All Just a Cover - Part 6 - Distracted Diva

**Author's Note:**

> It’s been a while. I’m trying to get back in the groove of things. Hope ya’ll like it. Might try writing some parts of this in drabbles.
> 
> The Set-List:  
> [ Just Got Started Lovin You ](https://youtu.be/MCx6NnGYHh0) by James Otto  
> 

Black Beauty’s engine must have an echo or something because as you pull up to the parking garage, the roar of a V8 327 engine is trailing after you.

Pulling into your spot, you turn your bike off but that engine persists. As you’re shrugging off your leather jacket, you look around and shake your head as a familiar midnight black impala enters the parking garage.

Dean parks Baby a few parking spots away from you. He pretends to not notice you, as if he hadn’t been following you for the last few blocks. It’s been maybe 45 minutes since you’d seen him. You’d stopped off at your loft to drop off the bike part and then headed for The Bunker. Dean must’ve left the shop not long after you.

Forgetting that Dean had said he liked the look of you leaning on your motorcycle, you do just that, crossing your ankles and crossing your arms over your chest. Dean looks you up and down as he climbs out of his car and moves toward the trunk. He quirks a smile at you as he opens the truck and starts to sift through a duffel bag. You look at your watch.

“It’s a bit of a weird time to be done with work, isn’t it?” you ponder. He must’ve gotten off work at 3:45. “Don’t mechanic shops stay open until at least 5?” Dean chuckles.

“I always get off work early on Fridays now so that I can come to the concerts,” he responds. You saunter over to him and rest your elbow on Baby’s roof. He doesn’t seem to mind you touching her. He pulls out a black t-shirt. You give him a skeptical look.

“I can’t decide if that’s creepy or not,” you shrug. Dean flashes you a smile and chuckles. He starts to tug at the collar of his shirt and shrugs as well.

“How about you take it as a compliment?” He winks at you and then pulls his t-shirt off over his head. You avert your eyes, though really you peek the second you can. His tanned skin and defined muscles remind you of _that_ night. It looks as smooth as you remember though in the flourescent lighting of this garage you notice his shoulders are dappled with light brown freckles. You’d love to count every single one but that would take too long and while Dean has noticed your staring, that doesn’t stop him from sliding on the fresh shirt he’d pulled out of the duffel bag. It’s black with a logo and white letters spelling out “Heaven’s Rebellion.” It’s actually one of your favorite t-shirt designs too.

“Nice shirt,” you comment. Dean gives you a goofy smile.

“Well you did say I was a groupie,” Dean says, holding his hands palms up and shrugging. “I gotta play the part.”

“Getting here hours early certainly helps,” you tease. You turn to walk away and Dean follows after, the two of you heading in the direction of The Bunker’s back door.

“As a groupie,” Dean says in a mocking tone, “I have to get here early so that I get the best spot in the crowd.”

“And what’s the best spot?” You look at him out of the corner of your eye and hold your head up high. “I’ve never been in the audience. I’ve always been the one on stage, getting all the attention,” you say arrogantly. Dean sees through it instantly and laughs. He opens the door for you like being a gentleman is second nature. You pass through the door, putting your hand on his shoulder and sliding it across his chest as you say “Thank you.”

“The best spot is center stage and as close to front row as possible. But it’s not just the best spot because of the sound but also because I get the best view of the lead singer and she can see me,” Dean says in a low voice. You’re leaning against a wall near the band’s rooms. Your arms are crossed over your chest and Dean is leaning into you, his hand propped against the wall over your shoulder.

“Why does that matter?” You ask, teasing him and hoping for a good answer.

“Because I like the singer and I think she likes me. She looks at me all the time so I have to make sure she can find me in the crowd.” Dean is leaning in so close to you and you can’t back up any further. You feel your cheeks getting hot and you hope you’re not actually blushing. Your rockstar facade helps to keep you cool on the outside while your heart is racing.

“Maybe she looks at everyone like that? Maybe you’re not that special?” Your voice is a little raspy because your throat is dry. The corner of Dean’s mouth tilts up like he’s unconvinced. “You think you’re irresistible?” You recall how not even an hour ago Dean had teased you by playing “Can’t Fight this Feeling.” You swallow around that dry lump in your throat and lick your lips. Dean’s dark, green eyes drop to your mouth.

“I think it’s the other way around,” he murmurs.

Your ears are definitely burning. You’re melting and thinking you could turn into a puddle of desire under Dean’s attention. Perhaps you’d been doing the right thing in avoiding him because doing the opposite…interacting with him…it’s nothing but distracting. Making you think of how his lips felt against yours, how pressing your body against his sent sparks flying off of every nerve ending, feeling those tight muscles tense and soften under your touch, the way it had felt to have him inside you…

You let out a deep breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding and rapidly blink a couple of times. Dean has an effect on you that makes you feel like you’re losing control of your own body. You can’t have that. Even if he’s the first man you’ve been with in a year or so.

“I have to go,” you mumble, starting to slink along the wall toward the door to the band’s dressing room, your safe haven.

“Wait.” Dean gently takes a hold of your hand. “I’m sorry if I came on strong. I was just having fun, like earlier today.” His forehead wrinkles a little bit like he’s worried. “Can I buy you a drink? Since showtime isn’t for a while?”

“Sorry, I don’t drink…you know, before the show,” you add to save face for your rockstar personality. If Dean, who actually smells like oil, leather, and whiskey all the time, were to find out you hardly ever drink– _that_ night being an exception–he might not be interested in you anymore and for some reason you want him to be. You like having his attention and shamelessly flirting with him. You’d really like to kiss him too but that’s why you need to go. Being so close to him is fogging your brain.

Dean nods his understanding though one of his eyes kind of crinkles like he knows you’re lying. He releases your hand and leans in slowly enough to give you the option for retreat. He softly kisses your cheek.

“See you out there, Rock Diva,” he murmurs in your ear. When he steps away, you’re both smiling.

“Take a hike, Groupie,” you say as you turn the door knob. The moment you do, Gabriel is actually on the other side opening it. He grabs your wrist and pulls you in.

“There you are! Hey Dean-o! Bye Dean-o!” Gabe shouts over—well, _around_ your shoulder.

Gabe’s small but strong hands pull you further into the room, where your bandmates are eating bar food for dinner. You sit down at the small table they surrounding. Balthazar hands you a Mountain Dew and offers to share his fries with you which you do happily.

“Where’ve you been? You’re usually here before us,” Gad comments. Gadreel has always liked punctuality.

“I told you guys earlier, I had to go pick up a part for my bike.”

“Oh yeah, and how did that go?” Gabe says with a smug smile and tone full of hidden implications. You scowl at him.

“Did you _know_?”

“Know what?” Gabe plays ignorant.

“That Dean worked there. How long have you and Sam been plotting against me?” you joke, squinting your eyes and waving a french fry at him. Gabe leans forward to quickly snatch away the fry and nearly bites your finger in the process.

“Y/N, please, as if. Your hot and cold _relations_ with Dean are not #1 on my priority and conversation list with Sammy. Though, my darling sister, I do worry about your sex life. Probably more than I should,” Gabe laughs.

“We all do,” Balthy mutters before taking a swig of his beer. A blush rises in your cheeks and you cover your face with you hands to hide it but to also hide the small smile that comes to you when you realize how much your bandmates care for you. They’re joking around but there’s some truth to it. “We want to you be happy. Ever since, Mi–” Gabe backhands Balthazar’s shoulder to shut him up.

“We don’t say that name,” he growls protectively.

“So…Dean works at the auto shop you went to earlier today?” Gadreel clarifies and gets the conversation back on track.

“Yeah, he does! Sam told me that Dean is actually probably gonna own the place someday. Bobby Singer is like their uncle or something.”

“I was ambushed,” you say sullenly, even though you’re okay with the outcome. You couldn’t avoid Dean forever.

“Sam only just told me after you left,” Gabe defend himself.

“Was that before or after the kiss?” you ask and judging by Gad’s and Balthazar’s lack of reactions, they already know about Sam kissing Gabe. They probably got an earful about it the moment Gabe showed up. Your brother cracks a goofy smile.

“Between…the second kiss and the third…and fourth.”

“Nice!” you smile and congratulate Gabe by nudging him. He truly looks smitten.

“So now what about you and Dean? Did you get frisky and roll around in some motor oil?” Balthazar inquires. You roll your eyes and shake your head.

“No.”

“Did you at least talk?” The look on Gadreel’s face is totally serious. He’s not looking to gossip. “You’ve been distracted on stage since you met him and then started avoiding him.”

“I have?” Gabe and Balthazar are looking back and forth between you and Gadreel. The serious band conversations usually take place between the two of you. Gabe and Balthy are just along for the ride.

“And if he’s around, you don’t go out with us afterwards. The meet & greets and _after-parties_ at The Devil’s Trap are important.” Gadreel emphasizes the after-parties because you know that he doesn’t really like them either. Castiel walks into the room right as Gadreel is making these points. “How else are we supposed to market and get our music to Crowley? Do you think he’s going to be interested in a band where their ‘frontman’ isn’t _in front_ out in public?” You nod your understanding. You had been so single-minded in your avoidance of Dean, you’d never considered that it could affect the band.

“You’ve been stiff, too,” Castiel jumps in with his two cents. He’s standing next to your right shoulder. You look up at up with angry furrowed brow, your mouth hanging open. When Cas’ stare holds steady, you look to Gabriel for back up. He looks down and shrugs, clearly taking Cas’ side. “You perform best when you’re not inhibited and distracted. You move around more. You interact with the audience. You even dance a little bit. All of that changes when you focus on avoiding Dean.” You open and close your mouth like you’re about to defend yourself but Cas rests his hand on your shoulder. “In avoiding him, you avoid a part of the audience and you don’t look like you’re having fun. It’s noticeable. Especially when it’s paired with you not showing up at the club or meet & greets. It could start rumors about the band drifting apart. If it hasn’t already.”

You look away from Cas, away from your bandmates. You prop your elbow on the table and rest your chin in your hand, looking down. You take it all in, embarrassed and ashamed. You speak after a short pause.

“Okay, I’ll do better, I promise. Starting tonight.”

“But is your conversation with Dean earlier tonight going to be an issue?” Gabe asks, concerned. You try to give him a reassuring smile.

“Nope. It might even help. I’m not going to avoid him anymore. I even told Sam that Dean can come over to the loft sometime. I’m ready to push past the awkwardness. I’m ready to rock.” The more you tell yourself that Dean won’t be an issue, the more you believe it. You’re smiling and feeling stronger and in control. Dean may have flirted with you today but you’re ready to tease the entire audience.

“We already picked out a set list,” Balthazar hands you a sheet of paper. “It’s kinda heavy, hope that’s okay. We’ve practiced some of them lately.” You notice a song by Taking Dawn and your eyes widen. Hopefully your fingers can keep up.

“We added in a country song though,” Gabe adds, pointing to a Jason Aldean song.

“A duet?” You look up at Gadreel. The two of you had practiced this song a while ago.

“We’re still trying out country right?” Balthazar asks. “I want to try Keith Anderson’s ‘XXL’ but Gabe is fighting me on it.”

“Only because I want to be the one to sing it!” Gabe rebuts, pointing one of his drumsticks across the table at Balthy.

“It doesn’t make sense! You’re clearly a small!” Balthazar smirks and Gabe’s jaw drops. He looks to you to defend him.

While it’s hard to transition from hard rock to country in one show, Heaven’s Rebellion has been trying it out and the audience seems to have been okay with the change. You all hadn’t decided but either you’re considering doing a country night or will just continue to mix in country during your regular shows.

Last week, before intermission, Gadreel had performed James Otto’s song “Just Got Started Lovin You.” Any instruments that you’d been lacking such as a fiddle, violin or keyboard was provided by a Ash’s computer and had melded to the live music perfectly. You’d played the acoustic guitar while his deep sultry voice delivered the lyrics in an adopted southern drawl.

 _“I’m thankful for the weekend / but two days in Heaven just ain’t gonna do / This is gonna take forever darlin’ / Girl I just got started lovin’ you.”_ Gadreel had directed the song at several women in the crowd, kneeling and taking their hands but he’d also sung the song to you, which is something the crowd seemed to love.

You were well aware that your fans constantly wondered which bandmate you were romantically involved with. They read into every performance and every look that passed between you and Balthazar or you and Gadreel. Some people even started rumors that you were involved with your mysterious and handsome manager, Castiel. It was kind of like a game to you and you played into it with every song, glance and gesture. Gadreel, the heartthrob bassist, obviously played along as well, as he had pointed at you several times during the song.

_“What’s the point in fightin’ what we’re feelin’ / we both know we’ll never win / ain’t this what we’re missin’ / let’s just stop all this resistin’ and give in / let me wrap my arms around you / you know you don’t want to leave this room / come back and let me hold you darlin’ / girl I just got started lovin’ you.”_

Even though you assumed your audience was there to hear rock and roll, they’d erupted in applause. Some girls looked like they were ready to swoon. You’d joked about it when you took back the mic. There was one face in the crowd who hadn’t believed Gadreel’s lovesick charade.

Dean Winchester.

Tonight, there would be confusion as to where your attention lay. You add a song to the set list.

“Let’s push off the country music for another night,” Castiel suggests. “Rock is important tonight.” Everyone looks to Cas for an explanation.

“Meg and Ruby are in the crowd. I assume they might be reporting back to Crowley.” A wave of tension and anxiety washes over all of you. No one from Crowley’s label had ever been to your show. “I do know though that someone else in the audience needs to be impressed too.”

“Who?” Gadreel speaks for all of you. He’d only ever tried to contact Crowley. No other label was important compared to Hellhound Records. You’re scanning the set list now, trying to determine if it needs revising.

“Abaddon.”

Your head jolts up in surprise. “Are you serious?” Abaddon is the owner and producer of The Knight Studio–rival to Crowley’s label. You’d never tried to get signed by Abbadon because her reputation is a bit more sinister compared to Crowley’s. Many bands regretted signing contracts with her. But her presence was good nonetheless, Castiel explains.

“If Crowley finds out that Abaddon is interested, the competition might entice him to sign us. We need to make sure that Y/N sings the right songs. Definitely some of yours,” Cas gestures to Gad, “but also some of the powerful female voices.” You agree.

“We got this!” Gabe declares, tearing the set list out of your hands.


End file.
